My second year of college I had to take English 102 for a second time. This was not because I did poorly the first time; it was the contrary; I had done well. It was due to a transfer glitch where my credits did not correspond with the curriculum in a compatible way. It turns out I should have been put in honors English but had not been (due to the transfer). There were 2 good outcomes from this unfortunate bit of bureaucracy. One, it turned out the professor teaching my section was the department chair and was a good teacher and a nice person. Two, I wrote an essay that supposed what I wanted out of life. I have never forgotten that essay, even though I no longer have a copy of it. I wished to own a cottage with a walled garden. I wished for a studio and a library. I wished for steady work and security. I wanted a canoe or a kayak, a dog, and a good bike. I wanted a nice kitchen to cook good food and enjoy good wine, leisurely, in my garden each evening.
What do I want now? Health, companionship, good food and drink, a peaceful sanctuary to call my own. Not much has changed. I am no longer naive. I want to do good work that matters. I want to make my mark on the world and do my part to make the world a little better. I want good food, good wine, flowers, and a big ole oak tree. I want leisure time to paint, garden, bike, and read. I still want to share sunsets and wine, good food, and dreams, and my bed every night with someone I can call my own, my kin.
I am living my life at the pace that is possible and the speed that is comfortable. I am reaching for the space that is uncomfortable, as Seth Godin would put it. Hopefully, I'll be able to set down roots and drink deep waters.
I'm very much reaching for the space that's uncomfortable as well. Only, given how nomadic I am at heart, my own deliciously uncomfortable space doesn't lie in putting down roots, but in seeing the world.
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